I Should Tell You
by SunRise19
Summary: And yet, he had never seen such passion, never witnessed such a look of forlornness in a man's eyes as he did before Kocoum's death..Slightly AU reflective fic..PLZ RR!...COMPLETE


A/N: Hi all!

This one-shot idea came to me from the song, "Your Eyes," from the Broadway musical, "Rent." I admit I did tear up a bit while writing this however I do hope you will enjoy this story! This is just a slight AU of Kocoum's death scene in the movie. I have always felt his character needed more exploration. If the story is a bit confusing at first I strongly recommend that you read it until the end as it will all come together for you.

As always, any thoughts or suggestions are greatly appreciated! Go on and hit the review button, it won't hurt you and it'll make me happy and motivated to write! So, tis a win-win situation lol!

In all seriousness, I really hope you like this and I truly thank you for reading. It means more to me than you will ever know.

P.S. My multi-chapter story, "Pathways to Peace," will be updated shortly so keep an eye out for that if you so wish!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything to do with the Pocahontas movie. Disney has all the rights to that and history has the actual Pocahontas. I also do not have any claim to the song, "Your Eyes," from the musical, "Rent." That belongs to the amazing Jonathan Larson.

-….-…-…-…-…-..-

Voices. That is all I hear.

At first they seem calm to my ears, a peaceful hum as I drift in and out of consciousness.

Is that what I am doing? It makes sense now; it all becomes suddenly and unexplainably clear to me as I can feel my body being lifted out of the shallow water.

Am I going to the Great Spirit?

No, that cannot be right for the voices would not follow me. Nor would the gentle feel of being lowered onto a soft sleeping mat. If I were headed towards the Great Spirit, I surely would not be able to smell the clean herbs mixed with smoke in the air.

I then realize, if such a thing is possible in my current state that the voices have returned yet they do not seem calm any longer. There is yelling, a raised tone declaring something, a voice that seems to be begging for reason.

Her voice is begging for reason yet I cannot make out the words. Only the longing in its depths, the strain of holding back a sob accompanied with a defeated edge.

It was Pocahontas speaking for I would know her voice out of thousands. She is uttering words and yet I can't make them out. What if she means them for me and I cannot reply?

Why can I not respond? I can feel my lips move, my parched lips move and I briefly wonder as to why they are so.

"Pocahontas," I manage to speak though I don't recognize my own voice. Why is that? I am not sure; perhaps if I take a breath I will remember…

Ah, I understand now. Something has apparently hit me in the chest and the pain is unlike any arrow or spear that I have ever felt. It makes me choke and I can feel the taste of blood as it wets my lips. Though it is salty, I have drunk more unpleasant things in the past in order to yell out for attention.

"Pocahontas," I try again as a rush of cold air washes over me and a cold hand grips my warm one.

Or, is that the other way round? I am not sure yet I force the thought to the back of my mind as I take another shuttering breath. I notice that it doesn't hurt as bad this time.

"Pocahontas," I speak again as I grip her hand while at the same time praying that she will understand me.

"I should tell you… I ne-need to tell you… I should, I've…"

I suddenly can't talk anymore. I do not know why, but a pressure is building in my chest and I can hardly breathe. It feels like someone has placed a great stone on my heart and I shut my eyes in order to gather my thoughts.

I hear chanting, I hear her voice as she sings. I can see her dancing, forcing the evil spirits away from me. She is so thoughtful to be here, that must mean…

A shuttering cough breaks my concentration from her dance as I blink open my eyes. Interestingly enough, I do not know nor do I care to how I could see her dancing with my eyes closed yet it happened.

I had lost my way of thought as I blink up at the hole in the top of the hut. The moon is out, the stars filtering down through the smoke filled air.

"Pocahontas," I can speak again though it is weak. I loathe that I sound like a child however she does not seem to mind as her hand has returned.

That must mean…

Another damn cough wrenches me away from my thoughts again as I feel my body jerk. Not once, nor twice, I count three or four times before it subsides and I am able to breathe again.

I now hear drums along with her singing and it is the most beautiful, brilliant and breath taking sound that I have ever heard. Why had I not noticed it before? I thought I had observed everything about her. From the way the wind captured her hair, her eyes in the moonlight, her legs as she ran, her hand as it gripped my own when we were but children.

Her mouth as it touched mine not so long ago. The taste of her, the tang of summer air and adventure as I had pulled her lithe figure towards me. The way her tresses had undoubtedly brushed my cheek as he held her.

As he held her.

It is in that moment panic by the likes I have never known clutches me and I hear myself cry out in true agony however I cannot discern if it is from the object that has hit me or the sudden realization.

He was holding her, kissing my Pocahontas, her hair flowing out behind her. My love's arms were around this man and she was…

Another attack crashes over me like a rough wave and I suddenly comprehend that I cannot catch my breath. The little air that had filled my lungs was quickly leaving. I become aware of blood splashing out of my mouth however it is no concern of hers as she is again clutching my hand.

I do not understand my thoughts are rapidly becoming cloudy. I feel like I am in a fog and the canoe I am in is stuck out in the river. I cannot see the shoreline, I can't see her yet I can feel Pocahontas's hand and hear the chanting falling from her lips.

The same lips I now know were kissing the man back with equal fervor.

It seems this realization makes everything fall in to place and I choke on a sob as I now realize that I am dying.

I am fading and she will never know. I have to tell her, I cannot; will not join my family and the Great Spirit above until I have said what I should have so long ago. My heart feels as if it is being squeezed by an enormous hand and the stone seems to have doubled in size. It is as if I have stepped out of the clouds in to a bright sunny morning that is how clear all the events have now become.

"Pocahontas!"

I have no idea how I was able to shout her name as I feel my head loll to one side and another gush of fluid leave my mouth. I grasp her hand in now what I know to be my death throws as my eyes glaze over.

"I should tell you… I should have told you… I have always… Love… I have always loved you."

I can see my body arch, see the tears and blood on my face yet I do not have the strength to clear them away. I hear her take a sharp breath as somewhere in the wind I perceive my mother's voice calling me home.

-…-…-…-…-

The elderly medicine man had seen this before.

Warriors wounded in battle crying out names, mumbling regrets and past mistakes as he had attended to their injuries.

And yet, he had never seen such passion, never witnessed such a look of forlornness in a man's eyes as he did before Kocoum's death.

It took much to make Kekata shed tears, for he knew that this was the cost of war. Yet as he had clutched the young warrior's hand and listened to his confession in the solitude of the heeling longhouse he had become aware of his soft weeping. He blinked back more tears as he tenderly closed Kocoum's sad haunted eyes for the last time.

-…-..-..-End of, "I Should Tell You."-…-…-..-.-


End file.
